Today it’s been a year since your service. I didn’t remember it was today until Facebook reminded me. What kind of best friend am I that I didn’t remember that? Was it because I blocked it out? Was it too hard for me? Was it that I just got caught up in life and forgot? Or is it truly that I just not have accepted the fact that you are gone? Social media makes it so easy for me to forget. It feels like almost daily, FB gives me a memory of you and I, or a memory that you commented on. It makes it seem that you are still just a text message away.

My mind won’t let me go there yet. Even when your death day came and we celebrated with cake and stories, it still hadn’t sunk in. I look at pictures and laugh and remember the stories associated with the pictures. I go to pick up my phone to send you a message and my stomach drops knowing you won’t answer. The last year has seemed so surreal. I can deny your lack of presence in my life by saying we just have been too busy to see each other. It’s easier than saying you are gone. My losses in the past two years have been so crushing, that I have chosen to deny your loss. My heart told my head it couldn’t take anymore, so my head told my heart you were still there.  My head said, look on Facebook, Insta, or even my text messages. My heart believed it, my heart still believes it.

I can’t give away your title, even though other’s have desired it, it’s not theirs to take, not yet. If I keep the title of best friend, then it means you are still there. The title is thrown around so easily among people. Everyone becomes your best friend. Best friend titles are tossed as easily as a salad, one day she’s my best friend, the next day, he’s my best friend. But for you and I, that title has remained yours for 47 years. It may stay for another 47 years. You promised me you would take care of me when we were in the nursing home. You promised me that you would be my memory when it faded away. You were my story keeper. I find that I want to ask you about a memory that is foggy in my brain, but I know you won’t answer, you would if you could.

I wear your starfish; it never comes off. It’s close to my heart so my heart doesn’t have to feel another loss. I remember all our trips to the beach, how we talked the entire drive there and back. How we laughed and cried at all the changes in our lives over the years. It reminds me of our marathon dinners when we would drive our servers crazy because we couldn’t stop talking long enough to order food. There would be times when weeks or months would go by and we hadn’t talked, but yet as soon as we did, it was as if we never missed a beat.

You taught me how to do my hair and make-up. You taught me all about fashion and MTV and boys. You were my protector from bullies, you taught me forgiveness and how to dance (hopeless cause). You were there during my senior week firsts and we laughed about that almost every time we talked.  I know that eventually, I am going to have to learn to live without you, but I’m not ready. As long as I have Facebook telling me my memories, I won’t need to do it.

About a three months ago, I was at the beach and I was walking by myself and my mind drifted to you. I spoke to the wind and suddenly it was as if you were there. For a moment, I felt you, my whole body tingled with your energy. I tried to hold onto it for as long as I could, but too quickly it was gone. It was a double edged sword, I was devastated that I couldn’t hold on longer, but I was blessed to have had the experience of knowing that for the briefest of moments, you were right there, just like old times.